Don Juan DeMarco's Interlude
by Lykosdracos
Summary: Don Juan DeMarco... what happened behind the closed doors of WhiteHaven
1. Impatient

Don Juan DeMarco's Interlude

Authors Note: I plan to have a fanfic for all of the characters that I have loved, seriously obsessed over for a lot of time. Jack the Ripper's going to be next, I have no idea what that'll be on, maybe a From Hell fic. Yes, quite a few of Johnny Depp's roles will show up on my portion of As well as Bullseye (Daredevil, because I thought Daredevil was incredibly weak and Bullseye should have been seriously defeated. Collin Farrell did such a great job!) and I have Wolverine, Gambit, Roux, Agent Sands, Jack Sparrow, Arwen, Aragorn... lets get started, shall we?

Chapter 1

"We have an attempted suicide t'report..." I heard the police report as I walked past one of their cars out of the store. "It's near Baybrey and Sixth. Some lunatic dressed like Casanova."

"I copy. You say _attempted_, Rick?" asked the cop.

"Yeah, he hasn't jumped yet. The guy's just standin' there lookin' down at us."

"Jesus. I'm on my way." The policeman said getting into his car. A man dressed as Casonova? How interesting. Those two streets were on my way home anyway... I started the car and subtly followed the police, there would be a clear entrance to the building for backup help.

As I reached the scene police were milling around all over the place. They know what they're doing, however it seems strange that there was a report of suicide and no net to help him in case he did jump. I saw him as he looked over the edge, it wasn't a clear image as he was over twenty stories up, but there was pure confidence radiating from his stance.

Since the police had blocked off most exits there was no way I could get up there to talk to him. I'm not an overly curious person, I much prefer to stay in the background and absorb by listening to people's problems. It's because of this personality quirk I became a psychiatrist. I've helped more friends than I can count through various problems in their life, and I read' people pretty well so this is a good career choice for me.

I wanted to be able to help this man as well. He stepped closer to the edge of the platform and my heart stopped beating for a moment. What was his problem, severe depression, a life-threatening illness, family issues, something to do with finances?

"Don't jump." I called and heard the plea echo in my mind. There was a door guarded by only one officer; that would be the way to get to him.

"Professional psychologist." I said hurriedly reaching towards the doorknob.

"I'll need to see some I.D." the officer said hesitating a little. I caught the pause however and stood to my full height, 5'7".

"Do you want this man to die? Arrest me later." I yanked the door open and luckily caught an open elevator. "Come on, come on!" I chanted trying to mentally push the elevator cable to move faster.

Finally! The doors opened and I was on the roof's landing. This man was unlike anything I've ever seen before. He was dressed in burgundy red, a black cloak was tied at his throat, and a crisp white shirt was a complete opposite to the other darker colors.

"Hello?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't want to startle him into jumping. Most suicidal people tend to be extremely jumpy or even twitch nervously. He, however, was completely calm and resigned to the fact that he wanted to die.

"Hello." He said interestedly, "Where is Don Francisco De Silva?"

"Who? Who are you to start with?" I asked.

"Ah, forgive my lack of manners. My name is Don Juan DeMarco and I request the presence of Don Francisco De Silva. I will die by his sword here tonight." He spoke with a slight accent, almost as if he were Castilian. He unsheathed a wickedly sharp rapier and swung it in a wide arc, before bowing elegantly at the waist. "And who are you fair Doña?"

"Katarina Hawcre is my name, why are you so determined to die?" I asked softly, trying to draw him closer to me and farther from the steel ledge of the billboard on which he stood.

"I have nothing else to live for." He said simply.

"Come down? Please? There is everything in the world to live for."

"No, alas, my beauty. She is gone from me forever. I shall wait here for Don Miguel and die honorably." He was interrupted by the sound of a lift being brought up to the billboard. It was Dr. Mickler. One of the most sought after psychiatrists in New York.

"Where is Don Francisco De Silva? I will fight no other." Don Juan rested the point of the sword against Dr. Mickler's chest and looked straight into his eyes.

"Erm... Don Francisco De Silva is in Mallorca for the weekend. I am his uncle, Don Octavio De Flores."

"Oh this will not do." Don Juan sighed, sheathing the sword.

"You are the great Don Juan! Why then would you wish to end your life?"

"Have you never met a woman who inspires you to love? Until your every sense is filled with her? You inhale her. You taste her. You see your unborn children in her eyes and know that your heart has at last found a home. Your life begins with her, and without her it must surely end."

"I have no doubt that losing a love like this can be very painful. But you must understand, my friend, that the power of love, the power of Don Juan's love is eternal and will not be denied." he opened the bucket lift he was standing in and after a moment Don Juan shrugged tiredly and climbed in.

Dr. Mickler nodded to me, motioning that he wanted to see me downstairs. I took the stairs this time, luckily the guard had long past left his post. Dr. Mickler stood with Don Juan in front of the police and made the public announcement that everyone was waiting for.

"This man had no intention of committing suicide. He has just lost his way and was trying to find bearings home. He'll be coming with us and we'll see if we can sort this out. You can all go home now."

A good excuse but somewhat hard to believe. It didn't matter, Dr. Mickler's wife was there too and since he had only a two-person car, he would need me to drive him back to the infirmary.


	2. Paperwork

Chapter 2

"So you assist in the up keeping of Don Octavio's villa?" he asked as I drove down the streets.

"I guess you could put it that way." I replied, "you _do_ know where we're going though, right?" He looked amused for a minute, his eyes flashed with silent laughter.

"Yes, I understand." He looked amused for a minute, his eyes flashed with silent laughter.

"Why Don Juan?" I asked, meaning his choice of attire. "Just fascination, or. . ."

"No, no. You've been misled. I _am_ Don Juan, I was just referring to your question of reality, the villa." He leaned back in the seat and looked out over the dark night sky.

A twisting in my stomach warned me to not to question him too seriously anymore. There was also the strangest feeling that perhaps he was telling the truth. It was impossible, I should start uncapping the Valium for such ideas, but with him so potently next to me it was hard to believe this was all some sort of ruse.

"I _want_ to believe you," I felt I had to say something to soothe his pride, "It's not everyday I meet someone so… experienced in life."

He grinned then, his cheekbones were high giving him a look of regality and his hair was slightly tangled but still masculine and aristocratic. There was a lust for life evident in the way he looked out at the world through my car windows. A refreshing honesty gleamed out from the confines of his black mask.

"What are you going to do when other people ask you who you are?" I inquired, I know the people at Woodhaven won't understand, they'll just medicate him and make him truly insane.

"I will tell them the truth. I don't need to prove anything to them, don't you think? What would you say to someone who asks you to confirm who you are? I think it is best they stay with what they know and leave the rest as truth." he shrugged and the cloak rippled lightly. He changed the subject, something I would later realize he did a lot. "What is it like, this villa of Don Octavio's?"

"It's, well... it's, um… nice. You'll see soon enough, I guess. It's not much to look at from the outside, but inside it's really quite peaceful."

"And will I be seeing more of you there?" he looked sideways at me.

"I suppose so, yes. It all depends on what Dr.—er, Don Octavio prescribes."

"Well this will be good then. Don Octavio is not the man I thought he would be. Something has changed, he has forgotten his past."

"He's changed that's for sure. The past two years have made him into a different man, as if he were bored with life now. He lacks inspiration and something to come to work for." I admitted truthfully, there was no way that I could be considered sane now, but I guess I never have been really.

"You are unlike any woman I have ever met before." He said suddenly breaking the silence.

"Somehow I find that hard to believe." If he were indeed Don Juan then there was a long list of women to be seen in his little black book.

"Don't discredit yourself, cara. Not many have taken the time to hold a civil conversation with me. Only Dona Julia..." then he went quiet again lost in memories. It was about fifteen more minutes before we reached the black iron wrought gate that led to Woodhaven. The guard let us enter and then inside we were met by Dr. Mickler.

"Thank you, Katarina. That will be all for tonight, I know that this is your day off." He said standing up from the couch he was sitting at looking through papers.

"It was no problem. If there's anything you want me to stay for? I have nothing else to do tonight." I knew the hassles of getting another patient booked and then to have all the paperwork done. It was a process that took at least all night, then the next morning a meeting would be called and the patient would be given to someone for treatment and observation.

"Thank you for offering, but I've got it all under control..."

"Dr. Mickler, your patient in Room 331 is having another anxiety attack." A nurse handed him a clipboard and then hurried back down the hall.

Donald Tryop had been committed a few days ago and was victim of irrational panic and nerve attacks. It was no wonder that the nurse had hurried away, only Dr. Mickler had been able to calm the man down so far.

"On second thought..." he looked at me apologetically.

"The offer still stands. Good luck." I said as he turned to take the elevator up to the third floor.

"Don Ocravio is having a problem with one of his guests?" Don Juan asked. I went along with it even though I believed him encouraging talk like that here... I should have better sense than to do that.

I know that reality can be really harsh sometimes and if I was doing more harm than good by continuing the tirade, I would fix everything in the morning.

"Yes, a man is having trouble getting accustomed to his new surroundings." I explained.

"That is not very polite of this man. There must be a great many guests if there are three hundred and thirty-one rooms."

"Why don't I get you lodged so you can see what the room is like yourself?" He held out his arm in the old-fashioned way, arm tipped up so that the elbow and arm is at a right angle. I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow and aside from the light-humored glance he gave me there was no mention of the slightly awkward moment that followed.

It's much harder walking like that than is mentioned in books or movies. I had to time my pace exactly to his and he did it without having to think. He made it much easier than it would have been, as if he had done this everyday of his life.

"This is it." I said coming to a halt outside of a room with a gold '69' on the door.

"Interesting choice." He raised an eyebrow and I concealed a laugh as I unlocked the door.

"Do you need anything else?" I asked. Looking around the room I was almost loath to leave him here. The room was very bright, the walls were painted the traditional white, and only a bed, table, and book-case decorated the plainness. There was a bathroom, no kitchen because we have a cafeteria for that.

"No, this is more than adequate." He said looking around curiously, there wasn't much to look at, but at least there was a window that he opened straight off. The view wasn't too bad, it looked out over the field and hills in the distance of the building.

"Well..." I hesitated to say good-bye, seeing him in the crimson red cape, he looked so out of place amidst all of the halogen lights and chalk-colored walls.

"Are books permitted?" he asked looking at the bookcase.

"I'll check with Don Octavio to make sure." I assured him, "I'm certain he'll agree."

"You have my thanks, bella." He gracefully bowed and brushed a lock of hair away from my face.

"Good night." I said before I went to the door.

"Pleasant dreams." He replied staying standing until I had the door closed behind me. It would be a long time until I could get home to dream, I had yet to write up his file and I groaned at the thought of filling out all of the information.

Some of it wouldn't be possible to write, what would I put for social security number? Relations? Residence? I sighed resolved to leaving them blank and filling what I didn't know in the morning. I'd meet him early so I could show him around and make sure he has a decent meal before the questions begin. I just really hope Bill doesn't get him, not to say anything against that uptight, pompous ass.

No, wait a minute, I take that back. I forgot to mention egotistical. He cares nothing for his patients, I've seen how he treats some of them. When I had to intern he was here treating a woman who heard voices in her head telling her to catch a train that didn't exist.

She insisted that she had to catch the train or loose everything she had in her pockets. Nearly going mad with worry she would turn white as a sheet and nearly faint before Bill took her seriously and not just as a woman who craved attention.

I could see the clipboard now, brown with the silver clasp on top. I sighed as I took up the black ballpoint pen. First question. Name: Don Juan DeMarco. Occupation: World's Greatest Lover.

They might fire me for writing this, but what else was I to go on? Dr. Mickler would laugh over it and maybe that would convince him to take Don Juan on himself. That would be wonderful, Mickler's never lost a patient yet. Not even close, he's the best this facility's ever seen and that's saying a lot.

Hair Color: Black.

Eye color:

I paused, what was his eye color? Deep soulful brown? No that wouldn't do at all. Black? There was no such thing as black eyes. What color were they really...


	3. Fit for a King

Chapter 3

Authors Note: In the movie they had a man's point of view, why not do this story in the woman's? First person pov is a little easier than writing how people normally would, but then to get the expressions right, insight on other characters... it's more difficult there. So it all balances out I guess. Hope you like the story so far!

I yawned as I waited for the gate to open, it was barely six o'clock in the morning and I had probably only gotten four hours of sleep at most. Being a psychologist we're used to taking strange hours, but for the last couple of nights I hadn't been able to head home until the early hours of the morning. Patients had been brought in, one woman who really shouldn't have been here at all she's just paranoid that something's wrong with her.

I signed in with Grace, a receptionist at the counter. Most of the paperwork was done now and Don Juan was now checked in as a patient of Whitehaven. I hadn't been able to track down Dr. Mickler last night, he would be here sometime though to catch up on things.

I'd finished most of the paperwork and now I had to talk to him about the rest. Putting my things down in my office I took his file and went to his room. I checked the window to make sure he wasn't sleeping, his back was turned to the door and was looking outside into the window.

The sunlight streamed through the window and I could see the intricacies of what he wore even better because night's shadow wasn't hiding it anymore. He stood to the side and was looking down so I had a clear view of his outfit.

He wore slightly scuffed black boots that came up to about mid-calf showing black close-fitting pants with black buttons along the side. He had a soft white collared shirt with cuffed sleeves and a red doublet with fourteen gold fastenings running down in twos. Two of them, at the top, were undone and less constrained than before.

He still wore his black velvet cape that was crimson red on the inside, it was tied around his throat with a black string. The hat he had worn the other night was also hanging down from a string to the middle of his back.

Gloves were at the foot of the bed, a bed that didn't look slept in at all. They, like everything else were elaborately made. While from afar they were plain black, on closer inspection, embroidered vine-like markings ran from the wrist of them to the lighter colored cuffs.

I knocked lightly at the door knowing that I had been staring but not able to stop myself from it. He didn't turn around, instead just inclined his head slightly so I knew it was fine to go in.

"Good morning." I said hesitantly. It was entirely unprofessional of me to treat my patients like this, but to act like they're mentally ill and for me to be cold... I could never do that. I'm not at all traditional, in fact some of the patients that I've helped still keep in touch with me and we go out to eat or watch a movie sometimes. Frank hates it, he can't do anything though because it's outside office hours.

"Morning." He replied quietly.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, "What's wrong?"

"They took my mask." He sighed, "They had no right to do that, bella."

"I'm sorry they did such a thing, why do you cover your face though? It wasn't just part of what you wear?"

"I have worn it from sixteen years of age. I vowed never to remove it in the presence of another. Four people have seen me without it and I have broken my vow." He faced me resignedly, "You understand the severity of this injustice?"

"I do." I replied seeing the faint anger and darkness to his eyes, "And I apologize for that. I'll try to get it back for you, but I can't promise they'll let you wear it when you leave the room."

He looked at me closely a minute and shrugged, "What does it matter now. You have something you wish to speak with me about?"

"Actually, yeah I do." I looked around the small room not seeing a breakfast trey or anything around. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, no one has been around." He ran his hand through his shoulder length black hair.

"Hm... come with me and we can eat at the cafeteria. No one will object and if I can ask you while you eat?"

"Certainly." I took his hand again and I couldn't help but grin when I saw two nurses actually stop in their tracks and look after him.

"How old are you?" I asked while he ate the two waffles, one pancake, three links of sausage, a scrambled egg, orange juice and milk. The woman behind the counter had been more than generous to give him a breakfast fit for a king.

"Twenty-one." He said having finished one of the waffles already.

"Where were you born?"

"Mexico. My father was born in Queens his name was Tony DeMarco, dance king of Astoria. He was the Don Patron of my mother's coffee plantation. Her name was Dona Inez and is was the sole survivor in the family from a plague that broke out in our village."

"Thank you, that filled out most of what I had left." I said looking at the two blank spaces on the paper. The next question I had to ask would be the most difficult.

"Why were you on the scaffold of the billboard yesterday night?"

"I was waiting for Don Francisco de Silva. He should have met me in a duel and the best man would then have won."

"Did he know to meet you there?"

"Of course." He was regarding me with amusement as if he knew what I really wanted to ask. I should have, I had done it to so many others yet with him I didn't want to offend him because I believed what he said.

"So you would have sword-fought and then the victor..."

"Would avenge his honor and go back to his life." He explained, "It would be a respected death and Don Francisco would see to burial arrangements just as I would he should I have won."

"So there was no intention of, lets say jumping or taking your own life."

"Why would I have jumped?" he laughed, "To take all the trouble to scale the post and then to have jumped down again? Absurd."

"As to the other?"

"That would be up to Don Francisco, wouldn't it? His ability with the rapier and whether or not he was prepared to meet my challenge. I imagine it would have been quite a duel, Don Francisco is a worthy opponent and one would have gone in glory from it."

"Are you still hungry?" I asked noticing that his plate was empty.

"No, thank you, Dona. My compliments to Don Octavio's kitchen."

"I'm sure he'll be pleased to hear it."

"When do I meet with him?" he inquired. "I look forward to talking with him again."

"Sometime this afternoon, I have yet to see him myself." I smiled hoping Bill hadn't got to him first.

"One more question and then I promise to leave you in peace." He said.

"Feel free to ask as many as you wish." I said allaying any fears he might have, he was extremely courteous and polite. A true Spanish nobleman, I could see him overseeing the running of a plantation in the wild lands of Mexico.

"What happened to my rapier? Is that in the same place as my mask would be?"

"I assume so, I'll get the mask back to you, I promise." I took the trays and walked with him to the swinging doors, "As to the sword... I don't think they'll allow it near your room until you're relea-, er, until you check out."

"That is fine." He took my hand and kissed my knuckles carefully, "I thank you for inquiring about these things on my behalf."

"It's no trouble at all." I said clearing my throat when my voice sounded husky.

I walked back with him to his room and once we reached the door I took out of my bag two books. El Burliador de Seville was one of them, the other was Catcher In the Rye, one of my all time favorite books.

He took them with gratitude and I again watched from the doorway as he sat down on the bed and opened one of them to read. I still hated leaving him like that, it looked so lonely to be there but I was a professional damn it and I couldn't let emotions rule supreme.

With that in mind I went to find Dr. Mickler and see what the rest of the psychologists had to say about whats been going on this week.


	4. Bob!

Chapter 4

"Katarina." Dr. Mickler sighed, "It's clear that the patient is delusional. He believes himself to be Don Juan, what more evidence do you need?"

"I just think there's more to him than meets the eye, that's all I'm saying." I replied, "Don't judge him until you talk to him, please?"

"I never do, you know that." He said preoccupied, "I can't promise you that he won't need medication, it's always a concern of ours, you've learned that by now."

"Dr. Mickler." I waited until his attention was focused again, "If you medicate him I promise you he'll truly go insane. This place won't be able to hold him, you go talk to him and you'll understand. Don't let Paul get to you first."

"Alright, alright. I'll talk to the kid first." He resumed looking back over the notes I made laughing every now and again, "Don't forget, meeting this morning."

"I won't. Thanks." He headed off in the direction of Don Juan's room and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Dr. Mickler isn't one to put off his patients, he gives them his full concentration and doesn't take into consideration that they might truly be mentally ill. True they might show signs of it, Don Juan was a perfect example of classic psychosis believing he was a fictional character, but he wouldn't judge just from hearing it.

As of now Don Juan DeMarco was on disposition time, as soon as the meeting started one of the psychologists would get him and decide what should be done. If they knew they could get him out of here within ten days then no further paperwork was required. Just the signing of a contract, meeting with the judge, and he was free to leave.

"So how's Don Juan?" I mentally groaned, why now?

"Sane." I replied facing Bill.

"I seriously doubt that. Is it true? Did he really have the costume, sword and all?"

"Yes he truly had a sword. Cape, boots, doublet, vest, and hat too." I replied wishing he'd just go away.

"Looks like he'll be here for awhile." Bill laughed, "Can you imagine? Don Juan!"

"Have you even seen him yet?" I asked.

"No, not yet. I can't wait though." He chortled, "I'll get to meet the world's greatest lover."

His laughter was really starting to get on my nerves, professional yeah right. I sometimes wonder whether counseling would do him some good. I'd gladly volunteer for the job.

"Hey, look." I pointed to the clock, "Meeting in half an hour, I've got to go and check on something."

"Sure, sure, you go do that." He was still laughing, "I'm going to get a cup of coffee."

Company policy, we had certain rules to follow and god forbid anyone try to change them. The meeting was at least an hour over, who had gotten Don Juan's case? BILL! It made me mad enough to take on the board myself, which was actually pretty irrational and being a psychologist I should know to calm down, but I really didn't care at the moment.

Bill would take Don Juan and turn him into a _real _mental case! There was no hope anymore! Bill was straight laced, conservative, utterly professional, and a real pain in the ass! Why couldn't Dr. Mickler have gotten him?

Had it been any time in the last ten years that Mickler said he could take a patient and have him out of here in ten days, no one would disagree! They'd hand the files over and backtrack out of the office.

This was the first time Mickler actually showed interest in a patient, well at least in the last year or so, and Frank was going to give the case to Bill! Don Juan was in there with him right now, I was on lunch break and still had fifteen minutes left.

I hated to think what Bill was writing on the yellow pad of his, we all knew that he would put him on meds. There was no hope of thinking otherwise.

"You!" Bill rounded the corner and pointed a finger at me accusatorily, "Dona Katarina?"

"Si, senor, como estas?" I smiled widely, things had just taken a turn for the better.

"Dona Katarina!" he repeated incredulously. "Cousin to Don Octavio del Flores?"

"Don Octavio del Flores es mi prima, si." I laughed, "Buenvenidos!"

"This is just- how could you- he's a-"

"Don Octavio will be happy to address any concerns you might have, if you'll follow me..."

"Oh, Mickler's going to have a lot of explaining to do. I'm taking this to Paul!" Bill stormed off and I headed back to his office to see if Don Juan was still there. Knowing Bill he would be, he'd probably had left the office telling Juan he'd be back soon. Go figure.

Just as I thought he was staring out the full glass-paned windows looking at the mountains in the distance.

"Tis a pity though, in this sublime world, that pleasure's a sin, and sometimes sin's a pleasure..." he said softly. "Wouldn't you agree, Dona?"

"I suppose." He faced me and shrugged tiredly, "You've memorized all of Lord Byron's Don Juan?"

"But of course." He looked surprised I had to ask, "The other story you gave me as well. Not all of it, mind you, but nigh the first three chapters."

"You... studied them?" I asked incredulously, he could have kept the book! He didn't need to commit it to memory.

"No, simply by reading." He closed his eyes, "If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born and..."

"That's truly unbelievable!" I said once he paused from his recitation, "The first three chapters like that, just by reading it once?"

"I've been able to do that since I was very young," he faced the windows again, "Dona Julia taught me to commit things to memory without becoming tired."

"Dona Julia?" I inquired he had mentioned her name once before too, I remembered.

"A woman I once knew." He replied, "When will I speak with Dr. Mickler?"

"Right now." Mickler walked into the room and closed the door behind him. "I've noticed you forfeit your vacation time?" he asked me, "Feel free to pick up again whenever you wish."

"I will, no time for vacation now." I grinned, "I'll talk to you both more later. Patients call."

"She look'd a sadness sweeter than her smile, As if her heart had deeper thoughts in store..."

"And if by chance- and who can tell? The devil's so very sly..." I chose another verse of Don Juan that fit what he was trying to say.

Mickler looked at me questioningly, but I just smiled and closed the door behind me. If he didn't know that Don Juan was sane now there was nothing more I could do.


	5. Black and White

Chapter 5

Coldness or anger, even disdain or hate, Are masks it often wears, and still too late. - Don Juan, Lord Byron

I didn't see or hear from Don Juan for the next two days, I was too busy putting together the release forms for one of my patient's. She no longer thought all men were evil and wanting to throw potatoes at her. I think it was partly Don Juan's doing, but since I hadn't had a chance to talk to him yet I wasn't sure.

As of now I had a headache, it might have been from the hours I spent going over the forms, and so I lay down on the couch usually reserved for patients and closed my eyes.

Geez, this thing was really comfortable and I put one leg over the cushion at the end and then the other I left on the floor. I felt my back crack and the sofa was all the more pliant.

"You look as if you were awaiting your lover."

That had me sitting bolt upright in the chair but it was Don Juan standing in the doorway. I should have known only he has the outright honesty to say exactly what's on his mind as he thinks it.

"Do I now." I grinned as he came into the room and sat down at a space I had freed, "Good to see you too."

"Have you been avoiding me, Dona Katarina?" he looked confused, "Don Octavio said that you were one of my..." he waved a hand as if trying to locate the word.

"Assistants?" I filled in hoping it was the right one.

"Doctors." He smiled, "And that you would come around, am I interrupting you?"

"No, no not at all." I relaxed again and let him pull me back against him to rest against his chest. "Although this isn't exactly professional..."

"Do you always see things in black and white?" he asked, "Right and wrong, what should be done and what shouldn't?"

"Not always, just when I'm supposed to be working."

"And do you work a lot?" he inquired putting his hands under my back to rest them on my stomach.

"It depends, really." I sighed, "What about you? Anything you want to talk about? Has Don Francisco been helping?"

"Very much so. He's a very... understanding sort of man even though he seems lost within his other half."

"Sorry? What was that?" I hadn't understood, did he mean his wife or something else?"

"Dr. Mickler, he's fully consumed himself within the confines of this man. Don Francisco will not accept who he was born to be."

"Katarina!" Bill stared wide-eyes and uncomprehendingly into the room.

"You wanted something?" Don Juan asked politely holding me a little tighter.

"I should have known." Bill scoffed under his breath. "He's had nearly everyone else."

"Now that was-!" I couldn't believe the audacity of this jerk!

"What, sir" Don Juan stood and made a motion as if reaching for his sword, when he realized that he had none he shrugged and crossed his arms nonchalantly, "did you mean to insinuate by that?"

At first I thought that he was objecting for his reputation, but as Don Juan motioned to me when Bill was at a loss for words, not a rare occurrence, I understood that he meant to protect my… virtue.

"I, um, well I only meant that, erm..."

"I suggest you apologize. At once." Don Juan's eyes were dark and his expression grim, this was a side of him I had never seen before. He looked every inch the Spanish nobleman, dangerous and prepared to fight to the death.

"Katarina..." he looked towards me for help. Knowing that it wouldn't do any good if this were to be brought before the judge, I stood and stepped between them.

"He didn't mean anything by it." I said to Don Juan smiling at his look of doubt, "And Bill, a word with you please?"

"But he's-" Bill started to interrupt.

"Perfectly free to roam as he pleases." I finished before another fight broke out.

"Thank you, Dona." Don Juan DeMarco kissed the knuckles of my hand as he had before, "I shall take my leave, don't hesitate to call should you need aid."

"Good night." I waited until he had bowed and swept gracefully out of the room cloak swirling behind him.

"You're in love with him!" Bill accused me as soon as the coast was clear.

"I most certainly am not!"

"Then why was he all over you? I'm sorry if I was interrupting anything!" he ridiculed.

"You don't know what you're talking about." I snapped, "He's a patient of mine, nothing else is going on. Not that I need to check in with you, but I know the rules just as well as you do."

"I'm sure Jack'll want to hear about this." He pulled himself to his full height of about five feet ten.

"If you want to go running to him, fine." I waited for him to back down.

"Fine." He repeated and went to the door, "Prepare for a _chat_ tomorrow!"

Thank goodness he was gone! I sank down on the couch again and pulled the nearest folder over my face. In love? He's got to be kidding me in love with Don Juan! How cliché was that!


	6. Taking sides

Chapter 6

"Katarina? If I could speak to you a moment..." I groaned deep within the confines of my mind, it seems that Bill hadn't wasted any time. Dr. Mickler held the door open to his office and when I stopped he ushered me inside.

"Yes? Is there anything you need me to do?" At least Bill hadn't gone to Frank I could just imagine the lecture awaiting me there.

"Take a seat, if you will." Jack sat down behind his desk and I know knew how patients must feel with the large desk separating them from us. "Uh, it has come to my attention, from a certain college of mine..."

"Bill." I prompted, it was nice of him to try and protect the maggot though.

"Yes, he, uh, voiced his concern over your... romantic entanglement with one of the patients here."

"Did he now. How kind of him to be worried." Jack understood and he grinned as he leaned back into his chair.

"I know Don Juan has a certain attraction with the women here, I had to bring Rocco in from the men's stationing, but Katarina-"

"There's nothing going on." I jumped in before he could start the 'inappropriate situations' speech. "Really, I would tell you if there was. Not that there's any reason for me to tell you, of course, but seeing as you're his psychiatrist I would have made a note to mention it and…"

Mickler cleared his throat pointedly and I realized I was rambling, but why should I have to justify myself to anyone! I had hoped they would know that I wouldn't do anything so unethical! For all the years I had been with them it was rather disappointing to find their opinion of me was so low.

"I just had to confirm one way or the other, you understand of course."

"Oh good." Bill came into the room again not knocking. "You're both here. I wanted to talk to you about John Marco."

"John?" I asked, "His name is Don _Juan_ DeMarco, not Marco."

"Honestly." Bill sighed sinking into a chair, "You don't buy into that now, do you?"

He was lucky that Jack took over for me because I was picturing how wonderful his head would look on a pike, stuck through the rich soil of Woodhaven's yard. I think it would be a nice adornment to the rose bushes.

"Sane until otherwise proven." Mickler leaned forward in the chair and crossed his arms on his desk. "What did you want to speak to us about?"

"_John's_." he started with a pointed look in my direction, "case, I want to know what the verdict is so far."

"He's perfectly sane, sound as you or I." I said, "Don Juan DeMarco can't be found insane because he's not and there's tangible evidence to prove it."

"Kat," Bill sighed, "The man was dressed as a Spanish nobleman, he's named himself after a fictitious character and he's obviously suicidal."

"First of all, _Billy_." He knows I hated being called Kat, hell knows how many times I've asked him not to address me as such, "He's in no way suicidal, why would that even cross your mind!"

"Now, now-" Mickler started to say-

"He was standing on a billboard ready to jump!" Bill threw his hands in the air as if by that action alone I would see things his way.

"No, he wasn't." I glared back at him, "He has admitted himself that it wasn't his intent to jump or anything rash like that. He wanted an honorable death, or at least a chance at one, not a suicide case."

"Oh yes, right, knife fighting thirty stories in the air, real honorable."

"_Sword fighting_, rapier to be exact, and yes. He wouldn't drink himself to death or buy six bottles of pills! Have you even spoken to him, talked to him to realize what it is he meant to do? I don't think you have, in fact I don't think you have the guts too! Not unless he was tranq'd up so he wouldn't randomly attack you!"

"Jack! Do you see what I mean? Utterly ludicrous!"

"The both of you need to calm down before I have you suspended. What is the meaning of all this? Should I give you time alone so you can duke it out in the hall? We're professionals here, this is a mental hospital we're trying to help the patients here become well again, not add to their stress."

"I _am_ trying to help them, I'm not judging them by their appearances, I try to get to know them first." I had to take several deep breaths, my temper has always been one of my weaker points, it was one of the reasons I almost didn't become a psychiatrist in the first place.

"Bill, I haven't fully evaluated him yet so I can't give you a full answer. Katarina, there is only a margin of a chance I'll be able to prove him legally sane. While he has shown no signs of anything otherwise, I doubt the judge will understand why a man in his mid-twenties is Don Juan."

"Yes, but-"

"Furthermore, the two of you have issues that need be resolved, I suggest you do that. And please, no more open debates in the hall, or more importantly, my office."

That was a dismissal if I ever heard one, I respect Jack though with all my professional opinions. There's no one better to me his word is law. It's not just because he has the years behind him, it's also for the way he treats his patients. As he said, sane until proven otherwise.

It's the Bill's of the world that one has to watch out for. Always judging never taking a deep breath to watch the world, they go in with an eye-full of what the world should look like and take it from there.

"Jack does have a point." Bill gathered his clipboard into a tighter grasp against his khaki pants. "We should make a better effort to get along, don't you think? That would be so much easier if you'd just stop playing around with this case and be serious. Admit that he's delusional and never will we have to argue again."

"So you want me to condemn a man, go against what I believe in, and forsake the same man who put his trust in me so that I stop arguing with you?" No other thoughts could come to mind I couldn't believe the audacity of any such ideas!

"He will be found insane you'll see. Until then I have patients to see and papers to fill out. Good afternoon."

I headed straight to my office really in need of a cup of coffee. Preferably one strong enough to strip paint from the wall, or that arrogant smirk from Bill's face. Either would work, I wasn't however prepared to see Don Juan standing around the corner. With a sinking heart I realized that Bill hadn't closed the door.

"I'm sorry for anything you might have heard. Really, I am, that wasn't meant to happen."

"What are you apologizing for, bella?" he asked concerned, "I might have heard a lot of what was said, but your voice was the one speaking out for me. I thank you."

"You're welcome." I replied, "I believe you, Don Juan, and it's not because some 'law of attraction' but it's because no one is as honest as you are, despite the fact that many find what you say hard to believe."

"You risk everything you've worked for, this job, your life, for me. Why do you do this, Dona?" his eyes searched mine and for the first time I saw insecurity and uncertainty. It didn't make him any less... powerful ... standing the way he was I could still see the fighter and nobleman aura.

"Because you're not the only one who can see through people." I grinned, "I have twenty minutes before my next meeting. You can come with me and get something to drink if you want."

"Only if I'm not being a bother to you." He tipped his head to the side in a little bow-type gesture of respect.

"Never." I insisted, "I could never see you as a bother."

He smiled then and the next twenty minutes flew by faster than ever. I promised to meet him in his room when I had more spare time, and after he was gone all my attention was focused on my patients.

Authors Note: I saw the movie again yesterday and I had to put some of my opinions in here too, right? Otherwise what good would writing a story based on it be? If your thinking that she's not suited to be a blue-collar professional, I totally agree and you'll see later on in the story what plans I have in store for her. As to why she hasn't fallen victim to Don Juan DeMarco's spell... that too will be explained later.

Hope you like it so far, it's been SO much fun to write! Who wouldn't want to get to know Don Juan? Wink, wink.


	7. Healthy Dose of Mel

Chapter 7   
Authors Note: writing this in the summer cabin, watching 'Secret Window' and enjoying the sun that's hitting across the grass outside. Lol. Anyway, on to Don Juan!  
  
Her day was finally done, she had to admit that though she had always liked her job, this case had proven to give her a new refreshing reason to get up in the morning. She would have said herself that there might be some ulterior feelings underneath the Don Juan DeMarco case besides just a psychiatrist/patient relationship. Yet there was no butterfly in the stomach feeling she usually associated with crushes.  
  
She was able to talk to him without feeling awkward or shy, nor were there any tell-tale signs of true attraction. Of course he was cute, any man posing as Don Juan would have to be handsome, but she didnt find it difficult to breathe whenever she was in his presence...  
  
Looking at him made her happy with the world, she was glad to see that not everyone had been corrupted into the mind-set this generation had enforced on it's people. She sighed as she turned off the engine of her car, she had obviously been watching too many Sci-Fi movies to have that mind-set.  
  
She was disheartened by the fact another of her patients would have to be institutionalized for definitely longer than a week. The womans name was Martha Greeby and was obviously suffering from severe catharsis.  
  
In the middle of their session Martha had stood up abruptly and threw books across the room, her stapler had gone through the screen of her window, and it had taken two nurses, a security guard, and Katarina herself to calm the woman down.  
  
Their sessions would have to be held in a proofed room with guards standing outside for her protection. Katarina wasn't going to give up on her though, she had never passed her patients on to another psychiatrist.  
  
It was her form of honor, she had started with them and as such would finish with them no matter what the result. The ones that were helped sometimes still kept in touch with her, and the ones that weren't she still saw and treated.  
  
There was a threat, of course, to her protection but it was a risk she was willing to take. She refused to see anyone she helped as 'crazy' and only a handful of them were considered 'legally insane' by the government.  
  
The phone rang as soon as she got inside, hurrying to drop her brief-case and bags she picked up to a woman sobbing on the other end.  
  
"It's okay." she said soothingly into the receiver, "Take a breath, breathe, Tara, breathe."  
  
"No, it's not okay." Katarina heard her sniffle and wanted to sink down onto the sofa and lay down, "Jon cheated on me and you say that everything'll be okay?"  
  
"I thought you were over him," Katarina rubbed her hand over her eyes, she had been helping her friend through this for the past couple of weeks but so far nothing she said had gotten through.  
  
"I was!" Tara said heatedly, "But then he called today and said that he wanted to stop by and pick up a few things... he came over and now all of his boxes are gone."  
  
The crying had started all over again and Katarina sunk down against the side of her wall and ran a hand through her hair. "You were going to leave the boxes on the side of the street and, I think you said, 'make a huge sign and let people take his shit, for all you care.'"  
  
"I know... can I come over? Are you doing anything tonight?"  
  
It was ten o'clock judging by the clock on her VCR, "Sure," she said, "You alright driving? Do you want me to pick you up?"  
  
"No, I'll be fine." Tara assured her, "Thanks so much, Rina."  
  
"Anytime." She mentally shrugged, so what was another night of no sleeping? It wouldn't matter in the long run anyway, "I'll get out the ice- cream and the good 'you're scum, die, Jon, die,' movies."  
  
That provoked a laugh from Tara, and as they hung up Katarina stood and moved her things from the entrance of the hall to her study. She then ran upstairs to change her clothes, a short-sleeved black shirt and gray jeans were nice, but not if they were going to watch movies.  
  
Four-and-a-half hours later, after 'Lethal Weapon 1 and 2' had been seen Rina was about ready to keel over in fatigue. The movies had been great, anything with Mel Gibson was, at least in her opinion, but it had been at least a week since she'd had a good night's sleep, and she had to report to work in five hours.  
  
"You're right." Tara admitted helping her clean up the popcorn, soda bottles, and ice-cream bowls.  
  
"About what?" Katarina asked.  
  
"Jon, me, the whole thing. When you said that I could wallow over it or get out and go do things... move on instead of letting him win by isolating myself with the boxes..."  
  
"That was mean of me to say," she sighed, "I was just-"  
  
"Right." Tara said quietly, "And if you hadn't snapped me out of whatever I was doing, I don't like to think about the consequences."  
  
"You going to be ok now?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." Tara waved a hand as if it didn't matter, "I'll go home to Sparks and... I'll see you tomorrow..."  
  
"Drive safe!" she waved as the car pulled out of the driveway. It was now almost three-thirty and she'd have to be up by seven if she were to get to work on time.  
  
She collapsed into bed not even bothering to change her clothes, jeans and a t-shirt were easy enough attire to sleep in anyway. 


End file.
